Mrs. Pratchett

Her name was Mrs Pratchett. She was a small, skinny old hag with moustache on her upper lip and a mouth as sour as a green goosebery. She never smiled.

Her apron was gray and greasy. Her blouse had bits of breakfast all over it, toast crumbs and tea stains and splotches of dried egg yollk. It was her hands, however, that disturbed us most.They were disgusting. They were black with dirt and grime.

And do not forget that it was these hands and fingers that she would plunge into the sweet-jars when we asked for a pennyworth of TreackleToffe or Wine Gums or Nut Clusters, or whatever. There were precious few health laws in those days, and nobody, least of all Mrs. Pratchett , ever thought of using a little shovel for getting sweets out as they do today.

American Inside Out – Teacher’s book.